“Bestest for yerself and yer friends!” Bruenor growled.

“So they thought,” Catti-brie was quick to put in.

Sali Dalib curled his smile sheepishly, but he had been in tight spots a hundred times before and had always weaseled his way out. He lifted his palms, as if to say, “You caught me,” but then jerked into a dizzying maneuver, pulling several small ceramic globes out of one of his robe’s many pockets. He slammed them to the floor at his feet. Explosions of multicolored light left a thick, blinding smoke in their wake, and the merchant dashed for the side of the tent.

Instinctively Wulfgar dropped Bruenor and jumped ahead, catching an armful of emptiness. The dwarf plopped onto the floor headfirst and rolled to a sitting position, his one-horned helm tilted to the side of his head. As the smoke thinned, the embarrassed barbarian looked back to the dwarf, who just shook his head in disbelief and mumbled, “Suren to be a long adventure.”

Only Drizzt, ever alert, had not been caught unawares. The drow had shielded his eyes from the bursts, then watched the smoky silhouette of the merchant darting to the left. Drizzt would have had him before he got out of the hidden flap in the tent, but Sali Dalib’s assistant stumbled into the drow’s way. Barely slowing, Drizzt slammed Twinkle’s hilt into the little goblin’s forehead, dropping the creature into unconsciousness, then slipped the mask back on his face and jumped out to the streets of Memnon.

Catti-brie rushed by to follow Drizzt, and Bruenor leaped to his feet. “After ‘im, boy!” the dwarf shouted at Wulfgar. The chase was on.

Drizzt caught sight of the merchant slipping into the throng of the streets. Even Sali Dalib’s loud robe would blend well in the city’s myriad of colors, so Drizzt added a touch of his own. As he had done to the invisible mage on the deck of the pirate ship, the drow sent a purplish glowing outline of dancing flames over the merchant.

Drizzt sped off in pursuit, weaving in and out of the crowd with amazing ease and watching for the bobbing line of purple ahead.

Bruenor was less graceful. The dwarf cut ahead of Catti-brie and plunged headlong into the throng, stomping toes and using his shield to bounce bodies out of his way. Wulfgar, right behind, cut an even wider swath, and Catti-brie had an easy time following in their wake.

They passed a dozen lanes and crashed through an open market, Wulfgar accidentally overturning a cart of huge yellow melons. Shouts of protest erupted behind them as they passed, but they kept their eyes ahead, each watching the person in front and trying not to get lost in the overwhelming bustle.

Sali Dalib knew at once that he was too conspicuous with the fiery outline to ever escape in the open streets. To add to his disadvantage, the eyes and pointing fingers of a hundred curious onlookers greeted him at every turn, signposts for his pursuers. Grabbing at the single chance before him, the merchant cut down one lane and scrambled through the doors of a large stone building.

Drizzt turned to make certain that his friends were still behind, then rushed through the doors, skidding to a stop on the steam-slicked marble floor of a public bathhouse.

Two huge eunuchs moved to block the clothed elf, but as with the merchant who had come in just before, the agile Drizzt regained his momentum too quickly to be hindered. He skated through the short entry corridor and into the main room, a large open bath, thick with steam and smelling of sweat and perfumed soaps. Naked bodies crossed his path at every step, and Drizzt had to be careful where he placed his hands as he slipped through.

Bruenor nearly fell as he entered the slippery chamber, and the eunuchs, already out of their positions, got in front of him.

“No clothes!” one of them demanded, but Bruenor had no time for idle discussions. He stamped a heavy boot onto one of the giant’s bare feet, then crunched the other foot for good measure. Wulfgar came in then and heaved the remaining eunuch aside.

The barbarian, leaning forward to gain speed, had no chance to stop or turn on the slippery floor, and as Bruenor turned to make his way along the perimeter of the bath, Wulfgar slammed into him, knocking them both to the floor and into a slide they could not brake.

They bounced over the rim of the bath and plunged into the water, Wulfgar coming up, waist deep, between two voluptuous and naked, giggling women.

The barbarian stammered an apology, finding his tongue twisted within the confines of his mouth. A slap across the back of his head shook him back to his senses.

“Ye’re looking for the merchant, ye remember?” Catti-brie reminded him.

“I am looking!” Wulfgar assured her.

“Then be lookin’ for the one lined in purple!” Catti-brie shot back.

Wulfgar, his eyes freed with the expectation of another smack, noticed the single horn of a helmet poking out of the water at his side. Frantically he plunged his hand under, catching Bruenor by the scruff of the neck and hoisting him out of the bath. The not-too-happy dwarf came up with his arms crossed over his chest and shaking his head in disbelief once again.

Drizzt got out the back door of the bathhouse and found himself in an empty alley, the only unpopulated stretch he had seen since entering Memnon. Seeking a better vantage, the drow scaled the side of the bathhouse and jogged along the roof.

Sali Dalib slowed his pace, thinking he had slipped the pursuit. The drow’s purple fire died away, further adding to the merchant’s sense of security. He wound his way through the back-alley maze. Not even the usual drunks leaned against the walls to inform his pursuers. He moved a hundred twisting yards, then two, and finally down an alley that he knew would turn onto the largest marketplace in Memnon, where anyone could become invisible in the blink of an eye.

As Sali Dalib approached the end of the alley, however, an elven form dropped in front of him and two scimitars flashed out of their sheaths, crossing before the stunned merchant, coming to rest on his collarbones, then drawing lines on either side of his neck.

When the four friends returned to the merchant’s tent with their prisoner, they found, to their relief, the little goblin lying where Drizzt had bopped him. Bruenor none too gently pulled the unfortunate creature up behind Sali Dalib and tied the two back to back. Wulfgar moved to help and wound up hooking a loop of the rope over Bruenor’s forearm. The dwarf wiggled free and pushed the barbarian away.

“Should’ve stayed in Mithril Hall,” Bruenor grumbled. “Safer with the gray ones than beside yerself and the girl!”

Wulfgar and Catti-brie looked to Drizzt for support, but the drow just smiled and moved to the side of the tent.

“Ha ha ha ha ha,” Sali Dalib giggled nervously. “No problem here. We deal? Many riches, I have. What you need—”

“Shut yer mouth!” Bruenor snapped at him. The dwarf winked at Drizzt, indicating that he meant to play the bad guy role in the encounter.

“I don’t be lookin’ for riches from one what’s tricked me,” Bruenor growled. “Me heart’s for revenge!” He looked around at his friends. “Ye all saw his face when he thought me dead. Suren was him that put the riding bandits on us.”

“Sali Dalib never—” the merchant stammered.

“I said, ‘shut yer mouth!’“ Bruenor shouted in his face, cowing him. The dwarf brought his axe up and ready on his shoulder.

The merchant looked to Drizzt, confused, for the drow had replaced the mask and now appeared as a surface elf once again. Sali Dalib guessed the truth of Drizzt’s identity, figuring the black skin to be more fitting on the deadly elf, and he did not even think of begging for mercy from Drizzt.

“Wait on it, then,” Catti-brie said suddenly, grabbing the handle of Bruenor’s weapon. “May that there be a way for this dog to save his neck.”